Copyright © 2010 Victoria Ladipo
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1- "Belle Filles"
"Dah-ling, you are going to look tout simplement magnifique!" Fallip exclaimed as he coated something on top of my eyelids. My hair was being tugged at every direction as stylists carefully played with it. Soft bristles of hair kept touching my face, rubbing something all over while something soft and smudge-y brushed my lips. "What a merveilleux sport you are being!"
I have never met someone who spoke with such enthusiasm, as if he were the one that was being pampered. Maybe he loved his job. Or maybe he was paid to say that to every girl he worked on before me. Maybe his French accent and French words made girls swoon. It didn't work on me though. I didn't want to be here. No I was forced by my own will.
"Ahh, vous avez terminé. Si belle qu'elle apporte une larme à mes yeux!" So beautiful, it brings a tear to his eyes. A tear! And what is his talking about? Me or his soi-disant merveilleux travail? His so-called wonderful work? He spun the chair I sat on and my reflection stared back at me from the vanity mirror.
The person who stared back at me, I knew was not me. This whole other girl has makeup painted on, that is currently revealing features I never knew I had. Her sorrel colored hair with tips of silver, was now glossed and shiny, hints of red showing as it cascaded past my shoulders and down all the way to my chest where the silver tips curled in perfect circles. Heavy eyeliner and mascara with dark rouge red eye-shadow coated my eyes, my aubergine-colored eyes popping eye and exposing dove-gray and forest-green colored flecks, which made my eyes sparkle. They didn't have to use concealar on my face since I already had a clear complexion but they did brush blush onto my cheeks, giving it a pretty hint of strawberry. Overall this was a wonderful job and any mean thoughts of Fallip I had, was erased. I wanted to cry but that would mess up his job.
"Thank you, so much," I said, showing my sincere gratitude. Fallip pressed his handkerchief to his eyes, dabbing the corners. His assistants standing off to the side, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Vous êtes l'une des plus belles filles, j'ai travaillé sur et il a été un honneur. J'espère que vous avez choisie dans le cercle des vainqueurs," Fallip said, speaking in full French. Was I really one of the most beautiful girls he worked on, and was it really an honor? I stood up, because that was the most beautiful compliment that was thrown my way, whether it was fake or not. I walked to him and embraced him. He didn't have to make girls swoon, it just came naturally and I hope I would have him as one of my friends in this competition. And he hoped I made it into the winner's circle. I hoped not because this was useless.
"Je vous remercie," I thanked him in French. When I pulled back, he still held onto my arms.
"Je parie sur vous. Do not forget me, Isabella douce," He said. What did he mean he was betting on me? And now he was calling me Sweet Isabella. He let go and recomposed his face. One of his assistants grabbed me by the arm and ushered me out the room but I looked back once more to see a scrawny girl walk in the other door. Fallip gestured for her to sit down just like he did to me. But he looked back at me, giving me an encouraging wink. I turned back around and let the assistant lead me to another room, down the corridor. I could hear giggles and laughter behind the closed doors. Lucky girls were here with their friends while I was alone.
Fallip's assistant led me to a room with curtained sliding doors. She slid the doors open and saluted me in. I walked in and a gasp escaped my throat. Even if I despised the King and his family with his wealth, this was nice. Two four-posted queen sized beds stood by each other, one covered with a red duvet the other gold. The walls were champagne-colored and two more doubled-door sliding doors stood on one wall, probably leading to the closets and on the other side was one more door that led to the bathroom. The room was bare but pretty. It had all the things we would need.
"This will your room. Your roommate should be here soon. Good luck," And with that she was gone, the door sliding shut behind her. Thank you, I sent her telepathically. I would need all the luck here. I shouldn't dream big though. Three hundred girls were sent here from all over the world, all for the love and devotion from the prince, I knew the Prince Jacques would never shed and only ten girls were chosen and spent two months getting ready for the High Autumnal Ball, and there he would choose his wife. No I wasn't interested. It was only by force I was here and I was prepared to do anything to not be chosen.
Only those silly girls do not see that Prince will not love them back. He is arrogant, selfish and needs a reality check. And maybe I will be the one to give it to him tonight.
I walked towards the closets and wondered how I would know which is mine. The curtains behind the glass were the same colors as the bed and I thought maybe which bed was mine, meant that the closet the same color was also mine. If I was chosen, the belongings I want would be sent here to make this room a little "homey" or so they say. The first thing, I knew, I would make my mother send was my iPod. Who knew what kind of dreadful music they played here?
I choose the red one since the gold one was so common here. And maybe my roommate would like it. Hmm, I wouldn't care if she didn't. I slide open the red curtained-closet and the dresses that hide behind surprise me. They're so beautiful, all of them with full skirts that reach the floor and splay across the other dresses. They're color-coordinated, white starting at the beginning and black ending the train. Each dress had jewelry to match, a pair of white or black gloves and a mask, some with handles others without. Hidden beneath the skirts a pair of heels or ballet flats hide.
This place never cease to amaze me and if not for the egotistic Prince who lived here, I could actually get used to the place and maybe live here. The Ball will start exactly at ten o'clock and last time I checked it was eight something. The Prince is required to dance with all three hundred girls, but he cant dance with all of them so that is why five nights are holding balls, five times in a row. Good thing I'm not part of the first hundred. I probably wont dance until tomorrow or two nights from now. So why do I have to attend tonight's ball. Surely one less girl wont make a difference and in ways it could help clear space.
My eyes flicker all over the dress until I choose a mauve-colored dress that has a simple neck-line, that doesn't show any cleavage which I know every girl will be trying to do and a skirt that isn't too long. Not knowing when the other girl could be coming in, I don't want catching me in the process even if were the same sex, I walk into the bathroom.
I'm glad the bathroom is simple yet classy, not to showy because that would be weird. Europe may not be modernized but America and I'm glad we are putting much influence on them.
I slipped on the dress, being very careful not to mess up my hair. Why don't they do my hair and makeup after I put on my dress? The dress was flowy and comfortable, easy to walk in. I stick my feet into the black heels I recognized as the pair I saw in Seventeen as I glide the white gloves on, which reached my elbow. Europe may not be modernized but they are on their way if they look into teen magazines. The jewelry that was with the dress was beautiful, the jewels amethyst and dew dropped. After I put the necklace, earrings and ring on, the mask was all that was left.
It was simple, with a handle, the mask black and sequined. It was perfect. It would give any boy or should I say gentlemen an excuse not to dance with me. I held the mask by its handle but not up to my face. There was a vanity mirror that showed my whole body. I was at least two inches taller. The dress was simple yet it made me look sultry and sexy, which was asking for attention which I was trying to divert the other way, and if that wasn't enough the jewelry and mask added more flourish to myself.
I groaned in disbelief. My hair and makeup weren't enough and now my clothes were back-firing on me. I might as well have worn one of those dramatic dresses that begged to be worn.
I opened the door and in the room stood a dazzling girl, that even my makeup and hair done couldn't compare to her. Her golden hair was pulled back in a rose bun, her ice blue eyes stared back at me with no warm greeting, her cherry red lips pursed. A gold dress was splayed on my crimson bed. She stood in a pale pink lace cami dress that stopped at her mid-thighs. She opened her mouth.
"Well, once you're done gaping, can you come help me into my dress?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips, leaning all her weight onto her left leg. I could feel my eyebrows raise. Attractive but shrewish. "Well, we don't have all night and if you want me helping you, you must start the favor."
------So how did you like it? I know obvious cliff-hanger but I'd thought I should leave it there. Just put it in my comments and vote. Heh well you should be expecting the next chapter soon in a little bit, maybe a few days. Have an awesome day and thanks for reading! Oh and sorry its like French but it's a big part of it and I hope me translating helped you! The chapter name was Beautiful Girls haha okay? Okay.----------